


Hammered by coach

by Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Coaches, Holoforms (Transformers), M/M, Massage, Rough Sex, Sweat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:01:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23602753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves/pseuds/Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves
Summary: Sentinel stays behind after the big game, exhuasted. Thankfully, coach Magnus knows exactly what he needs.
Relationships: Sentinel Prime/Ultra Magnus
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Hammered by coach

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my buddy pastel on tumblr! For references on the holor forms, click these links!
> 
> https://pastelpaperplanes.tumblr.com/post/614238666683973632/alright-stophammer-time (ultra magnus)
> 
> https://pastelpaperplanes.tumblr.com/post/614164735248777216/dear-sentinel-prime-i-personally-hhhhhhhhhhhhh (Sentinel)
> 
> Enjoy!

Sentinel sighed as he shifted through his locker. He had just played a good game against the decepticon douche bags, and was the last one in the locker room. He was sweating up a storm, and his muscles ached. He took the rag he just wet, and slapped it onto the back of his neck, sighing in relief. He had really pushed himself today, and barely wanted to move. Not that he let Optimus or the rest of the team know. He was more or less the star, he had to be an example. He was just happy everyone left, allowing him to finally relax. At least, that's what he thought. As he gave his leg a stretch, and upon immediately sitting on the bench in pain, he realized there was someone standing in the hall.

Magnus, their coach. Great, just the person to look weak in front of. He knew, based off of the other's face, that he couldn't lie his way out of it. He mentally swore as Magnus approached him, arms folded across his chest.

"What did I tell you before the game, Sentinel?"

"...to stretch."

"Did you?"

"...no sir."

Ultra Magnus looked as though he would scold him, but he held his tongue. Magnus was as old of a geezer as they get, but he truly pushed his boys to the absolute limitations of their abilities. However, this didn't mean he didn't have his moments of kindness. 

"Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere, really? Mainly the legs."

"Hmm...you WERE giving it your all today, it would make sense. Did you at least drink water?"

"I...had a sip."

"Of course you did. Wait right here."

Sentinel's head was too foggy to know how long he was gone for, but he was relieved when he felt something cold being pushed into his hand. He twisted the cap off the Gatorade, and took a swig, sighing in relief as the sweet, sugary liquid drifted into his system.

"Better?"

"Much."

Sentinel gave a brief 'sorry' as he realized he spat a little in his response. Much as this helped him, his body was still exhausted, and he was barely finding strength to return to him.

"You're still tired. Give yourself a minute, moving too much now can give you quite a few problems. Just relax before you head on back to your dorm."

"Thanks coach."

He found himself slowly starting to relax, before he tensed up. Magnus's hands were on his shoulders, lightly stroking them. Sentinel turned his head towards him, brow slightly raised.

"Magnus, sir?"

He wasn't looking at him, but his shoulders. Face was as firm, and focused as ever.

"I'm checking to see how badly your pain is. If it's too much, you're going to have to take the next game off."

"But I-"

"If you push yourself further in the next game, you will be out all season. You do not want that. I do not want that. Do you understand?"

"...yes sir."

A player must trust their coach, afterall. Sentinel took another swig as Magnus's palms dug into his shoulders. He hadn't noticed it before, but Magnus's hands were firm, calloused. Not as gross as he thought they'd be. 

"You're hot."

"I...what?"

"You're hot. Your skin is hot to the touch. You could've overheated to the point of passing out."

"Oh. Right, sorry, I was just. Overlord was being so smug, drinking was the last thing on my mind."

Right. The old man probably didn't know what calling someone 'hot' even meant. Sentinel was happy the fog was starting to clear from his mind, and the fact that he didn't feel like he was being boiled alive.

"You have a passion for the sport, Sentinel. However, your need to overshadow others will be your bane."

"These lectures will be my bane."

Magnus gave him a slight smack on the cheek, a pat more than anything. Sentinel gave a light chuckle, before suddenly finding himself groaning.

"Did that hurt?"

"N-no, the opposite in fact."

Magnus's hands were digging themselves into his shoulder blades, and the relief that followed was borderline heavenly. Magnus gave a light nod as he applied a little more pressure, only soothing his muscles further.

"Good, good. You didn't push yourself as much as I thought you would've. Once we're done you should give yourself a hot shower, it'll help your muscles relax. Plus, you're soaked."

Magnus, almost playfully, ran his hand against the others scalp, neither of them surprised by the amount of sweat that clung to his hands. Sentinel chuckled.

"Hey, I play hard, you know that. But I follow, I'll give myself a proper wash."

Sentinel took a gulp of Gatorade, really savoring the sweet, red liquid. Magnus's hands drifted down to his lower back, applying further pressure. Primus that felt good. It left his back feeling blissfully numb in the force, which was significantly better than the pain and soreness.

"Take off your shirt."

That made him snap his eyes wide open (he didn't recall closing them actually), looking at him, serious as ever.

"What for?"

"This is not as effective as I'd like it to be. Your shirt could possibly be keeping in heat as well."

"...aight then."

That wasn't too weird, was it? Sentinel was probably just overthinking it, given the other's age. He placed his bottle down on the bench in front of him, took the wet rag off his neck and let it fall to the floor, and pulled the shirt over his head, lazily folding it in his hands and placing it in front of him. He had to admit that DID feel a lot better. Magnus did know best, ultimately. 

"There we are. Much better."

Magnus continued, firm grip roaming from his shoulders, slowly down to his wrists, then starting back up again, roaming down to his sides. Sentinel didn't know how long Magnus was at it, just that it was enough for him to finish his ice cold drink. Magnus brought his mouth to his ear, and the breath tickled the sweat drops still trailing down Sentinel's neck.

"You said your legs were your primary concern? Do they still ache?"

"A lot, actually."

"Very well. Lean on me."

Sentinel didn't get to ask why, before Magnus's hand was placed against his chest, and pulled, forcing his back to press against the others front. Magnus's hand was firm against his bare skin, and his body felt hard against his back. Maybe it was the shirts he wore, maybe it was Sentinel being busy on the court, but he never noticed how fit Magnus was. From what he felt, on his exposed back and the others thin shirt (odd, he usually wore them fairly baggy, now that he thought about it) Magnus was a pretty well kept old geezer. Magnus leaned slightly forward, and gripped the others legs, and as soon as Sentinel felt that grip tighten, he knew he needed EXACTLY this. Magnus's hands were careful, steady, firm.

"Is this better? How's the pain?"

"It's...good. Not so bad. But uh..it's higher up."

"Where?"

Sentinel put his hands over the others, and carefully slid them to his upper thighs. He didn't want to look up at the other's face, he was so focused on those hands. Primus, were they always so big? Full of old scuffs? They paused, as if uncertain, before continuing on, squeezing the others flesh in a way that sent a shiver up Sentinel's back. He didn't know why, but he was thanking primus that he was wearing his shorts, versus his sweatpants. Magnus's chin had rested itself onto the others shoulder as he continued on, watching the white skin turn red under his grip. Almost as red as Sentinel's fiery cheeks, red as his mane of sticky, messy hair. Red, like those stained lips.

"And? Is that better?"

"Y...yeah. Lots better, actually. Could uh...go harder though."

"Harder?"

There was a silent confirmation as Sentinel finally looked at the face beside him. Magnus had a face that when stiff, was solid as iron. But as soon as the facade fell, it was practically maternal, soft. Like his lips.

Since when was his lips against Sentinel's? Upon the realization, he quickly pulled away, panic slowly starting to build up in his frame. 

"Woah. Woah woah woah, I'm not-woah. Okay, no."

Sentinel had no idea what was going on. He finally looked at the situation. He was alone in a steamy locker room, sitting in between his coach's legs. With the coach massaging him. Whom he had just kissed apparently. Sentinel squirmed, body trying to stay in the temptation of relaxation, while his mind was practically in fight or flight mode. 

"Okay imma just, go, this is MAD homo-"

He was forced to sit back down. Not by being pulled or threatened. He just suddenly felt the other's hand cup his crotch. Firm, huge hands practically had him frozen. It didn't hurt, but it certainly wasn't gentle. Ultra Magnus chuckled as he pressed his lips against the corner of the others lips. Slightly cracked, yet fully making up for it in firmness.

"I'm helping you, Sentinel. There's nothing wrong with this."

"B-but you're-"

Sentinel couldn't finish as Magnus gave a light squeeze, making Sentinel grip onto the others thighs in support. Holy shit, it felt like he was gripping an entire ham under his grip. That shouldn't feel good. He shouldn't be picturing himself splayed across his lap with Magnus kneading his nuts like they were dough.

"Helping. There's only something wrong with this, if you allow it to be."

He pushed the others underwear down, and tried not to groan. Just above his crotch, was a tattoo. In cursive, black ink, was the phrase, 'Primer prime'. Why was his star player so gorgeous, while being simultaneously so goddamn stupid? He did his best to ignore it as he freed the others cock. Now this, more than made up for the stupidity. Hard for him already, with matching red hair. How cute. He proceeded, hand firm against his length. Just when he thought he could predict Sentinel, he felt his lips, and more than welcomed the young, eager mouth. How sweet. He didn't indulge in the kisses for too long, not wanting to distract the other from watching his hand stroke his cock. From the others gawking, he could tell this wasn't a normal occurrence for him.

Funny, how often Sentinel would talk about his exploits with the other girls at the school, while he was but a little virgin. He knew there was a certain look to him that seemed off. Nothing was off here though, Sentinel's mouth agape as he enjoyed the firm, steady stroking of the elders hand. That was when he stopped, lightly flexing his hand to show the others precum that had coated it. Poor thing wasn't going to last long. Sentinel sweared before practically snapping his head at him, voice venomous.

"What the-why'd ya stop!?"

"No such thing as kindness with reciprocation."

Ultra magnus pulled himself out of his own pants, and he practically heard Sentinel gulping. He ran his messy hand up his girth, and with his free hand, motioned for the other to turn around. Sentinel obeyed, and practically glared at him as he sat there. This was a view Magnus would NOT forget;sweaty, fit, exposed, desperate. All just after a little fondling.

"Okay, enough with the haiku crap old mech, be straightforward with me."

"Alright. If you want me to help you finish, you need to give me something. You need to suck it."

Sentinel peered down. To say Magnus was packing was putting it bluntly. Dude was fucking HUGE, and Sentinel was pretty sure the school had a rule against concealed weapons. 

"Oh. FUCK no. You jerking me off is one thing, that's questionable at the least, but putting that shit in my mouth is not only homo as SHIT, but will kill me."

"Alright then. You seem to be feeling better anyhow."

Ultra Magnus stood up, and was about to pull his pants fully back up, before Sentinel whined, hand raised out in protest.

"W-wait wait! I...look just, back down. Fine."

Ultra Magnus gave a light chuckle as he sat back down, pushing his pants further down. Sentinel looked hesitant, as if already regretting his decisions. He scooted himself forward, and took a deep breath. He had this. This was nothing the primer prime couldn't handle. He, very cautiously, as if he'd beat the shit out of him if he moved wrong, held it in his hand, and mentally preparing himself, forced the head in his mouth. It was definitely...new. It wasn't the slightly salty taste that got to him, but the texture. So THAT'S what it felt like. Ultra Magnus groaned in satisfaction. When was the last time he had such a pretty pair of lips around him like this? Too long.

"There we go. Don't fret, I will happily return the favor, momentarily."

Magnus was usually far more patient, but he couldn't resist the temptation here. Not with eyes blazing as blue as they were. So, after rubbing the others scalp, purely to watch him sink into it, Magnus clutched his hair, and pushed. Sentinel squirmed, as they all did, but Magnus was firm, pushing and pushing until, inevitably, Sentinel's nose made contact with his stomach. Ultra Magnus could die like this, fully stuffing such a hot, novice of a mouth.

"Hold."

There was a slight struggle. If Sentinel really wanted to be free, he'd manage. But no, he was sitting there, keeping his strong jaw open wide for him. He was ready. He lifted the others head slowly off of him, and muttered a light swear. The way he gasped. The way his mouth kept itself open, the way the saliva connected him and his own throbbing cock. Magnus tried to clear his throat, but it didn't remove the gravel from his voice.

"Turn around."

"The hell is with you and barking at me like I'm a mutt?"

Sentinel wiped the excess drool from his mouth with the back of his hand, and was about to spout more nonsense, when he saw the look in the others eyes. It was the famous 'don't you test me' look. Every player knew it, and knew it well. So Sentinel, mumbling a few choice words, turned around. He was going to ask if the other had any other bullshit command, before his chin slammed onto the bench below, being forced down by the same strong, huge hand that he was quickly getting intimate with. Whatever remained of his clothes was gone and tossed to the floor, and Sentinel was forced to hold his previously sweaty shirt to his face, concealing whatever sound just flooded from his mouth. Magnus held Sentinel's hip, getting a feel for his new play thing.  
To say Sentinel was a sight to behold was no exaggeration. Sentinel's body was pale, dotted with enough freckles to match the stars in the sky, while simultaneously being just muscular enough to handle him. He was going to think about this long after they were done.

"Easy, I know what I'm doing. Just relax."

He was more or less telling himself that. Sentinel had such a nice, tight little ass, and it was not only handling his size well, but providing no resistance. He slowly slid himself in and out, letting the other grow accustomed to his size. Sentinel had yet to pull his face out of the abused shirt, and that simply wouldn't do.

"Sentinel? Why are you hiding? I could've sworn the team Captain could hold himself with just a little more poise."

He was met with the middle finger. Alright, he could play games. He slowly added another inch, eliciting a muffled swear, before letting him have it. 

"You're right, what am I saying? You act however you wish during coitus. Afterall, you're no Optimus Prime."

That made Sentinel turn his head around so fast, he was surprised it stayed on. He knew Sentinel always wanted to be better than Optimus. Was it selfish, using their rivalry for his own pleasure? Yes. Did that stop him from being aroused by those determined eyes? Absolutely not. Sentinel lifted his head from his shirt, and huffed like an ornery bull.

"I can do ANYTHING better than Optimus. And I can fucking PROVE it."

It was difficult to move under the other's grip, but he'd be damned if he buried his face in his shirt anymore. Old fart wanted noise? He'd give some noise.

"Go ahead. Fuck me. Optimus is gonna look like a chump once you're done with me."

Magnus almost wanted to laugh. A handsome, very stupid boy. And very impatient, given how he pushed himself against Magnus.

"I. Said. Fuck. Me. I can handle ANYTHING."

"Anything?"

"Turn up your fucking hearing aid old man, I said ANYTHING."

Confidence. Magnus liked that in a toy.

"Very well. Let's see how your boasts hold."

Then, finally letting himself have what he truly craved, he slid himself fully inside, balls pressing right up against the others ass. There was a moment of stillness as both tried not to cum immediately at their new sensations. Once Magnus felt as if he could hold it, he granted Sentinel no mercy, leaning over him fully, and slamming his hips into him, over and over again. Sentinel had yet to fail him in being receptive, immediately swearing and exclaiming at the new feeling. Magnus's weight wasn't the only thing keeping Sentinel down, as the crash of his strong hips proved to seal the others fate. Magnus placed one of his hands on top of the other's, using his other to hold firmly onto the others hair (Magnus might have a slight fascination with said bundles of red).

"You sure you can handle much more of this?"

"I-I said I can and I-FUCK!"

Sentinel exclaimed loud enough to be heard through the entire locker room, and, apparently being embarrassed by it, pressed his lips against the others, spilling his sounds into the other's mouth. Magnus knew exactly what he was feeling. He was just as close as he was. He forced the kiss to cease, letting Sentinel suffer in his swears. Sentinel's face and choice of words had attitude, but he knew those eyes. Those eyes screamed 'more, please, I'm SO close!'. And Magnus wasn't so cruel. Pulling firmly on his hair, Magnus slammed into him faster, forcing Sentinel's eyes onto him, and nothing else.

"Touch yourself."

The line wasn't supposed to be seductive. It was an order, one of which, Sentinel didn't mind obeying, quickly abusing his own cock with his hand, adding more to the slick, lewd sounds that permeated through the room, almost as much as the steam did. With a swear, Sentinel finally came, mouth throwing spit as he screamed, forcing himself to clench around Magnus, and to cum all over his own chest. That sight was just enough to have Magnus following suit. He meant to pull out, as he usually did, but this was too inviting. So he came, hard, right into the other's ass. He had to press firmly into Sentinel, forcing him to take it. There was a moment of heavy breathing, a moment of sticky stillness that clung to them, and clung heavily. Magnus lifted himself off of the poor thing, and took hold of his ass, pushing it away from him.   
He hadn't recalled when the last time he had such a mess. Sentinel's ass was full of his cum, having it steadily drip down onto the bench below. What a sight.

"Well, you certainly proved me wrong."

"S-see? I...t-told you."

Sentinel hadn't lifted his exhausted body from the bench, barely lifting his arm to respond to the other. Magnus gave a light chuckle as he peeled the others shorts and underwear away.

"You have clothes in your locker, yes?"

"Yes...s-sir. What are you-"

"Cleaning your clothes. They're stained."

"You're gonna...give 'em back?"

"Course. I do in fact, hope to see you again, outside of a game. Maybe in better shape. Do stretch next time, Sentinel."

Magnus stood up, folded the soiled outfit, and dropped his hand onto his aft, making Sentinel yelp in pain. He had enough energy to glare at him in his weak state.

"Oh fuck you, coach."

"That's what I'm planning on, Sentinel."

He smiled as he walked out of the locker room.

Sentinel COULD use more one on one training.


End file.
